We had some little difficulty in finding our way in the barge, for the mouth of the river of Pontiana lay so completely hid amongst low cane-brakes, mangroves, and other aquatic trees and shrubs, which grow thickly along the western shores of Borneo, that, until we came quite close, no inlet was perceptible.  The first hit we made proved wrong, and lost us three or four miles; and it was not till nearly noon that we reached the rush of fresh and troubled water, which indicated the true entrance.  The Admiral desired greatly to observe the sun’s meridian altitude.  His Excellency, however, though he could command many things, could not command this; for although our fellows gave way lustily, so as to stem the current running out, and we had a full half-hour to spare, we could not effect a landing in good time.  On reaching what had seemed the shore, no footing could be found anywhere.  Even the little boat which we carried with us in tow of the barge, though she threaded the mangrove stems and roots, and went in much further than the barge, could not reach anything like dry land.  As the main bank refused to afford us a resting-place, we put off, and rowed as briskly as we could to a small island about half-a-mile from this treacherous shore; but this, too, proved a cheat, for what we took to be solid ground consisted merely of a mass of green shrubs, growing on the ridge of a soft slippery mass of mud just peeping above the water.

As the sailors, by this time, were pretty well exhausted with rowing so long in the hot sun, they hailed with great joy the sea-breeze which just then set in.  They soon stepped the masts, hoisted the sails, and laid the oars in.

“Now go to dinner, men,” said the considerate chief, “this rattling breeze will not carry us up far, and you will pull all the better for a good bellyful.”

Just as this judicious order was given, and while we were still laughing at the recent adventure, which reminded us of Sinbad’s mistaking a whale for a solid rock, our eyes were attracted by the sight of another island, much smaller than the first.  It seemed, indeed, like a little grove or tuft of palm-like foliage, rising out of the water somewhat in the fashion of our Prince of Wales’ feather.  None of the party had ever seen such a tree before, and every one tried to guess what it might be; but all were puzzled.  At length, a diminutive moving black speck showed itself at the root, or centre, from which these fairy-like branches radiated.

“It is a rock with a tree on it,” cried one.

“Nonsense!” said Sir Samuel, “there are no rocks hereabouts; the soil for many a league is alluvial.”

“It skims along like a witch,” exclaimed a third; “it is surely alive!”

“Let us sail to it whatever it be,” said the Admiral, waving his hand to the coxswain to sheer the barge further from the side of the river.

As we drew near, we discovered our phenomenon to consist of a fishing-canoe, gliding along merrily before the sea-breeze, with no other sails than half-a-dozen branches of the cocoa-nut tree placed in the bow, and spread out like the feathers of a peacock’s tail.  These were held together by a slender bar of bamboo, and supported by small strips of bark to the stern, in which sat a naked Malay.